Hard calls from men of honour

I noticed this week that a front cover of Sport — the free London magazine — has been nominated for UK magazine cover of the year.

The chosen edition features a stark, close-up portrait of Paul Gascoigne’s haunted, prematurely-aged face. I thought it a little intrusive, to be honest, but each to their own.

Anyhow, looking at it again, you couldn’t help wonder how many of those lines had been drawn by Gazza’s last great disappointment, in that La Manga hotel room, when Glenn Hoddle told him he hadn’t made the cut for World Cup ’98. A wardrobe, a vase and a man were broken. “You know what it means to me, you fucking bastard!”